


A close-knit team, if only for a while

by peccolia



Category: Naruto
Genre: Fluff, Gen, it's a feel good quick fic based on a cute idea, oh look! i wrote a rare non oc fic for once, rating is for mild language it's really pretty much G
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 22:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12220056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peccolia/pseuds/peccolia
Summary: It’s a strange…phenomenon (for lack of a better word) that Team Seven has noticed only occurs around the cold season in Konoha.Well, actually seeing it isn’t the strange part, because it’s quite an ordinary thing to see—it’s the who part of it that piques their interest.





	A close-knit team, if only for a while

**Author's Note:**

> Please forgive any OOCness, I don’t write canon-verse fic often. Based on a super cute idea discussed with @ysmirel and cross-posted from tumblr. 

It’s a strange…phenomenon (for lack of a better word) that Team Seven has noticed only occurs around the cold season in Konoha.

Well, actually  _seeing_  it isn’t the strange part, because it’s quite an ordinary thing to see—it’s the  _who_  part of it that piques their interest.

And mainly the fact that said  _who_  doesn’t seem to bat an eyelash at the strangeness of it all.

Kakashi-sensei doesn’t seem to mind that a knee-high bundle of knitted yarn waddles along behind him, with tiny paws and ears and a tail—and just a bit of snout—poking out in roughly the same places where a dog’s tiny paws and ears and tail and snout would be. Of course, it could be because he’s too immersed in the small book held open in one hand, because when he’s reading that _Icha Icha_  series he doesn’t seem to outwardly notice much of anything (though they’re sure he’s always on his guard).

But—no. That can’t be it. Because also in his wake are seven others wrapped (to a lesser degree) in colorfully-knit plush scarves sporting various blocky designs of paw prints, dog biscuits, and Konoha leaves. These others are clearly his ninken. And the small one is, without a doubt, Pakkun—the only one whose name they really know. Even if they can’t exactly  _see_  him.

What’s strange about it is, of slightly less importance, that they’ve recently seen a certain Might Gai sporting a bold scarf of a similar fashion, dotted with Konoha-green leaves on red—at least, that’s what they thought they saw as he sped past them during a morning run. It was hard to tell when it all blurred together in his haste.

And, of considerable importance, is that they’ve each received a scarf of their own, wrapped and left quietly on each of their doorsteps, without a name, without a message, with only the item itself left as a clue of where it came from.

They’re wearing them now, in fact—Naruto’s is a garish blue sporting clunky Uzumaki spirals found in his favorite ramen; Sakura’s is pink, with lighter pink cherry blossom petals that looked to have been attempted delicately but ended up just as blocky; and Sasuke’s, a soft cream color to offset his usually dark and serious persona, with gray shuriken at the ends. Each personalized, with no small amount of thought put into their creation.

The only conclusion they can draw from this is that  _someone_  in Konoha is a serial scarf-knitter.

…Yet, he doesn’t seem to wear one himself, no matter how cold it gets.

“Why do you think that is?” Sakura asks, as they tail their teacher to the Memorial Stone, where he drops off two more of the same items as offerings. One, a bold orange not unlike Naruto’s outfit, and the other attempted delicately, the same as Sakura’s, but in much the same colors as Sasuke’s. They sit beside two others that remain from another visit, but are too difficult to see from where they crouch, hidden, in the treetops.

“Dunno, maybe it’d be too hot with all those layers he already wears?” Naruto tries as he rubs at his reddened nose. “I know  _I’d_  be, ‘ttebayo.” He sneezes, then, much to their chagrin—for Sakura, because it totally just blows their cover, and for Sasuke, because the blockhead sneezed in his general direction, and was just too close when he did so.

Even so, when they look to see if Kakashi or his ninken are alerted to their presence, the man is nowhere in sight. All in the span of a few seconds, they’d lost track of him.

Not surprising, but disappointing all the same.

“Jeez, Naruto, you couldn’t just keep that in, could you?” Sakura chides with a tic in her brow, trying not to get  _too_  upset because it looks like the boy had caught something, with the sniffle and red nose.

Sasuke rolls his eyes. “And here I thought idiots couldn’t catch colds.”

“ _Hey_ —” Naruto shoots back, still fiery despite the cold, despite the sick, then gives pause. “Did you just… _not_  call me an idiot?”

“No. I just—”

“Got proven  _wrong?_ ” he cuts in, grinning victoriously, not realizing what he’d just said about himself.

There’s no way Sasuke will just let him have that—but he can’t exactly pull himself out of that contradiction, either. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. There are plenty of other reasons you’re an idiot.”

“You  _jerk_ —”

Sakura’s arm snaps out to catch Naruto in the chest before he can lunge and he falls back, winded, as she squeezes her way between them. “Oh, stop it already! Keep in mind why we’re here. We still don’t know why Kakashi-sensei doesn’t have a scarf.”

“Does it even  _matter?_ ” Sasuke asks, crossing his arms and doing everything in his power to ignore the bristling blond on the other side of a smiling Sakura.

Her smile falls. “Well…not really, but he went through all that trouble to make  _these_ for us.”

“Yeah, and I don’t see you  _not_  wearin’ yours. Admit it, you’re just as curious.”

Sasuke touches the scarf wrapped around his neck and grumbles a bit, but doesn’t try to refute it.

Naruto looks down at his own scarf and plucks at the edge with a goofy grin. “I think it’s great, ‘ttebayo! I haven’t had a scarf since…” He trails off. Squints. Really tries to think. Fails, and shrugs. “Never, I guess.”

“We’re all in agreement it’s great, then. And we know that Kakashi-sensei made them—so no matter what he says, no matter how hard he trains us, he  _does_  care. So…” she trails off, too. Crosses her arms and taps her foot against the branch as she considers the information at hand. “Maybe… _we_  should make  _him_  one!”

At this, they both turn to look at Sakura like she’d just proposed murder instead of a cute crafting hobby. But for them, it may as well have been.

Because none of them really know  _how_  to knit.

“Uh…Sakura-chan…” Naruto tries to break the news to her, but it’s harder than it sounds. Because it really  _is_  a good idea, a great idea, even, and he would if he could.

“I know none of us can knit.” She’s quick to acknowledge it. Then, turns to Sasuke curiously, lips pursed in silent question.

He shrugs in response. “I  _can’t_.”

“But I’m so sure you’d be great at if you learned!” she encourages, with a blush fresh on her face.

“H-hey,  _I_  can learn, too! And I’ll be so damn good at it!” Naruto says loudly, before interrupting himself with another sneeze.

Both Sakura and Sasuke step slightly away with a grimace, seeing the snot dripping from his nose.

He gives a thumbs-up before sneezing again, so hard it throws him off balance—he struggles, arms pinwheeling, before toppling backwards from the tree and landing in the shrubs below with a loud rustle and a heavy thump.

“…Alright, there’s no way he can do it on his own. This is going to have to be a team activity.”

For once, Sasuke agrees.

 

* * *

 

The cold season winds slowly down—soon, in a week, perhaps, it will be unforgivably hot, even in the supposedly-cool spring months. That the Land of Fire even has a winter at all is a miracle, at times.

Lately, Kakashi’s noticed Team Seven has been working together rather well—and at times, they squabble just a bit too much. But, overall, their teamwork has improved. They smile a little more—chat a little more. Even Sasuke. Grudgingly. But the progress is still apparent.

He isn’t really sure what brought about the change (although he’s not complaining, either) until, one day, he sees a lumpy, wrapped package sitting on his doorstep. 

Strange—it brings about an acute sense of déjà vu.

Beneath the wrapping, it’s soft to the touch—maybe a bit  _too_  soft, but also a bit too lumpy in some areas. It’s a mystery and, in all honesty, he’s flabbergasted, because he can’t for the life of him figure out what it may be.

Even if its front is scrawled with the all-too-familiar handwriting of one of his students, boldly stating: “FOR KAKASHI-SENSEI.”

A smile pulls at the fabric of his mask as he sets it on his kitchen counter and carefully tears the crinkled brown packaging away. But the smile falls away in time with the bundle of knit yarn that falls out of the package and spills across the countertop.

Again, he’s stunned, because he isn’t quite sure what he’s looking at even as he takes the item in his hands (and it  _is_  soft to the touch) and turns it over, running his thumb against the bumpy, tri-colored, patchwork scarf of orange, red, and blue. The rows are inconsistent at best, clunky, clumsy, in some places too loose, in some, too tight—the red section in the center is the best of all, but still not perfect. And they’re all sewn together with obvious, wide stitches.

But what floors him the most is that each painstakingly knitted section isn’t just a specific color—there are also three unique designs displayed on one side. On the Orange, a scarecrow face. On the red, the kanji for “seven.” On the blue, the Konoha leaf symbol. All in black. And, somehow, it unifies the mishmash all together.

“Well...would you look at that.”

Kakashi doesn’t realize he’s tearing up until he blinks and feels the moisture catch on his eyelashes.

He looks to the old, faded green scarf sitting on his dresser, worn at the edges and torn in some places, never taken outside to prevent wear and tear, these days—the first scarf he’d ever been given.

Now, in his hands, is the second.

 

* * *

 

“It’s too hot…isn’t it too hot out? We took  _way_  too long to finish that thing—do you think he’ll even wear it?”

Neither Naruto not Sasuke have the heart to ease Sakura’s worries. Because they’re just as concerned—and it feels a bit like failure, even though they tried their best.

But today simply isn’t scarf weather. They aren’t even wearing  _theirs_ , because training works up enough of a sweat already—though they did wear them all throughout the winter months, and studied them especially close when knitting each section of the one they’d given to their teacher.

“He…he totally will, ‘ttebayo!” Naruto finally says, if only to quell the doubt he, too, feels.

Sasuke opens his mouth to agree with the hope, but quickly changes his mind as something in the distance catches his eye. “Look. Here he comes.”

Late as always, but today a bit less so. Kakashi-sensei approaches the training field looking tired, much the same as usual, but the  _un_ usual thing they notice about him is…he has a familiar tri-colored scarf wrapped and bundled up around his neck, despite the weather.

There it remains, throughout the day, throughout the week—through the  _entire_  spring season, until the sun just bears down too incredibly hot for any one person to bear the heat of knitted yarn so close to their skin.

But the phenomenon will surely continue when the winter months arrive again. 

And this time, he’ll be a part of it.


End file.
